Tales From The Ravenclaw Common Room
by TheWeaselette
Summary: Ravenclaw students have a tradition: storytelling. Terry Boot started this tradition and now he holds story nights for his friends. Join them as they discover new worlds through stories and learn some important life values.
1. Prologue

**A/N: So, this story just randomly came to me when I remembered how much I liked Terry, Michael and Anthony. Also, I really like the idea of storytellers, of someone sitting and listening next to a fireplace, so I just combined my two loves. This is a prologue, but chapter one is up already. Enjoy!**

**TALES FROM THE RAVENCLAW COMMON ROOM**

**1. Prologue**

Ever since they had reached their fourth year, Ravenclaw students who were in Harry Potter's year had had a habit of telling each other stories in their common room, next to the fireplace. At first, it was just a friendly gathering, but, as the students entered their fifth year, it had become a tradition. Older and younger students would sit down and listen to a story. At some point, students from other houses began to arrive.

Terry Boot was the most frequent storyteller, for he knew how to keep his audience interested. Sometimes he would tell them Muggle fairytales, sometimes myths and legends and sometimes the good old wizarding fairytales most of them knew by heart.

Students would arrive to the Ravenclaw common room, someone would wait for them outside, help them answer the portrait's question and they would embark on adventures that led them across the world.

Terry was not only the most important member of the group, but he was also the one who first came up with the idea. He was sure that some of the teachers knew what was going on, but he liked the feeling of doing something grand and keeping it a secret.

This was something that was promoting inter-house unity, but it was also a new tradition, something that would be remembered, something that began in Ravenclaw, something that was his idea and Terry was very proud.


	2. Snow White

**A/N: So, Snow White is the first chapter ****of this weird thing. Not all of Terry's stories will be Muggle fairytales, just so you know. I'm quite proud of this. **

**This chapter happens in the fifth year, somewhere by the end of 1995.**

**2. Snow White**

It was a rainy afternoon when Michael Corner entered the Ravenclaw common room, his hand bloody.

"Detention with Umbridge?" asked his friend, Sarah Fawcett.

"Yes," replied Michael. "That overweight toad made me write 'I will not act superior' a hundred times."

Sarah smiled sympathetically and went back to the book she was reading. At that moment, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein came down the stairs from their dormitory, carrying an enormous bowl filled with a yellow substance.

"Essence of Murtlap?" asked Michael, wincing in pain.

"Yes," replied Anthony. "Terry and I thought it would be more useful if everyone used this bowl. It's large enough."

Michael placed his hand in the liquid and sighed in relief.

"Can't that cause infections?" he asked.

Terry shook his head.

"The bowl has a filter. It removes blood and leaves only the Essence."

Michael nodded and enjoyed the feeling. His hand had stopped hurting completely by now.

"So, Terry, is it story night tonight?" asked Lisa Turpin from by the fireplace. "I promised Dean and Seamus I would tell them when it would be."

Terry shared a look with Michael and Anthony.

"Sure, why not. You can tell the Gryffindors, Lisa."

He walked over to where Sarah was reading her book.

"Hey, Sarah, isn't your boyfriend in Hufflepuff?" he asked her.

Sarah rolled her eyes.

"John Stebbins, Terry, as I have told you a thousand times already."

Terry winced.

"Sorry, you know I'm not very good with names. Could you tell the Hufflepuffs about the story night?"

Sarah sighed and nodded.

At that moment, second-year Stewart Ackerley came down the stairs from his dormitory.

"Stewart, could you do me a favor?" asked Terry.

"Sure, Terry, what is it?"

"Could you stand in front of the common room tonight and help people answer the question?"

Stewart nodded.

"Of course, Terry, but what if I don't know the answer?"

Terry smiled and replied, "Don't worry, Stew, you're a smart lad. I'm sure you'll do just fine."

Later that evening, a large crowd of students was assembled in the Ravenclaw common room. Finally, at eleven o'clock, Stewart entered the room with Vicky Frobisher, Emily Harris and Demelza Robins, three Gryffindor fourth-year girls.

"Is that everyone, Stewart?" asked Anthony.

"Yep, that's all of them," replied Stewart and sat down next to his best friend, Natalie McDonald.

"So, what do you want to hear tonight?" Terry asked. "A Muggle fairytale, a wizard fairytale…?"

"A Muggle fairytale would be nice," said Michael, who was sitting on the ground, his arm around Ginny Weasley's waist.

"All right, then," said Terry. "_Accio Muggle fairytales_!"

A book came zooming from the dormitories.

"How about we read 'Snow White'?" Terry asked.

No one had anything against it, so Terry started.

"Once upon a time… Wait, wait!"

Everyone seemed startled.

"I forgot something important," Terry said. "Would you like to hear the real version of the story, or the romanticised version?"

Most of the students wanted the real version, so Terry began once again.

"Once upon a time, many years ago, a king and a queen ruled over a distant land."

"What land?" asked second-year Orla Quirke, who was interested in Geography.

"I don't know, Orla," said Terry kindly. "It just says it was a 'distant land'."

Su Li got up and approached Terry.

"How well do you know this story?" she asked.

"Very well, why?"

"Because I think it would be simpler if you told the story from your memory, only sometimes consulting the book."

There was a murmur of agreement.

"Well, if you think so…" said Terry and placed the book next to him. "All right… So, this queen was sad because she couldn't have children."

"Muggles can't have children?" asked little Euan Abercrombie, his eyes wide.

"Don't be an idiot, Euan," said his friend, Rose Zeller. "How would Muggle-borns exist?"

"Some Muggles can't have children," said Anthony. "They don't have spells to help them conceive."

"Thank you, Tony," said Terry. "Well, this queen couldn't have kids, so she was very sad. One winter day, she was stitching something when she accidentally pricked her finger on her needle."

"I hope the needle was clean," said Sally-Anne Perks. "If the needle had been dirty, she could've fallen ill and died."

"Well, she didn't fall ill," said Terry. "A single drop of blood fell onto the snow."

Michael chuckled.

"Well, that must've been one small needle," he said. "And how did the blood end up outside? I thought she was inside."

Terry shook his head and smiled.

"I don't know, Mike, just go with it. Anyway, the queen looked at the blood and said, 'Oh, how I wish I had a daughter with skin as white as snow, lips as red as blood and hair as black as ebony.'"

"Where did the ebony come from?" asked Angelina Johnson. "We know for the snow, the blood, but what's with the ebony?"

Terry checked the book quickly.

"Oh, her window was ebony. Soon after that, her wish came true. She gave birth to a daughter with skin as white as snow and so on. She named her Snow White, but…"

"She what?" asked Seamus Finnigan. "Who names their daughter 'Snow White'?"

"Yeah, poor child," said Susan Bones.

Terry shrugged.

"It must've been a tradition of some sort. As I was saying, she named her Snow White, but sadly, the queen died giving birth."

"See, dirty needles," muttered Sally-Anne.

"So, the king soon married a beautiful, but proud and cruel woman," said Terry.

"Why are step-mothers always evil in these stories?" asked Kevin Entwhiste. "I have a step-mother and she's really nice."

"It's because divorce was scandalous back then," said Michael. "People assumed that if a man married another woman, she was some sort of an evil seductress."

"That's ridiculous!" said Kevin. "My Dad loved my Mum very much, but he can't mourn forever! He fell in love again and that's not something terrible!"

"Well said, Kevin, well said," said Terry. "So, this evil step-mother, the new queen, owned a magical mirror."

"Like the ones we have in bathrooms?" asked Ernie Macmillan.

"Yes, I suppose," said Michael. "Our mirror always flirts with me and it's a he!"

Terry chuckled and continued.

"Every day, the queen would ask,

'_Mirror, mirror on the wall,_

_Who's the fairest of them all?_'

and every day, the mirror would reply: '_Thou, my Queen, art the fairest of all'_"

"Why did the mirror speak in old English?" asked Wayne Hopkins with a smirk. "Contrary to popular belief, it doesn't make you sound more educated."

"Oh, I don't know, Wayne, these fairytales are confusing," said Terry. "Anyway, one morning, when the queen spoke to the mirror, it replied, 

'_You, my Queen, are fair; it is true._

_But Snow White is even fairer than you!_'" 

Laughter erupted in the common room.

"That evil bitch got what she deserved!" said Lavender Brown.

"So," Terry continued, "the queen flew into a jealous rage. She ordered her huntsman to take Snow White to a forest and kill her. She also told her that she wanted him to bring her Snow White's heart."

"Wow, she sure is evil," said Fred Weasley.

"Yeah, it makes me happy; we only have Mum ordering us around," said George Weasley.

"The huntsman took Snow White into the forest," said Terry, "but he found himself unable to kill her. Instead, he told her to run away. He caught a wild boar and brought the boar's heart to the queen."

"Yeah, because they look the same," said Justin Finch-Fletchley sarcastically.

"Well, I doubt that the queen ever saw a human heart," said Hannah Abbott.

"So, Snow White was scared and alone in the forest," said Terry. "She ran and ran until she reached a small house. She entered it and noticed how everything seemed small. She went upstairs and saw seven tiny beds."

"Who lives there, seven kids?" asked Zacharias Smith.

"Close, Zach, but not quite," said Terry. "The house was the home to seven dwarves."

"I'm sure Flitwick wouldn't like this. He hates it when people make fun of his height," said Sarah.

"Well, these dwarves weren't teachers, they were miners," said Terry. "When they came home, they found Snow White asleep on their beds. They were so happy they had a guest, so they let her sleep. When Snow White woke up, she was frightened to see the dwarves."

"Well, I would be frightened if seven strange blokes were watching me sleep," said Vicky Frobisher with a smirk.

"The dwarves introduced themselves to Snow White and they all went downstairs to eat," continued Terry. "One of the dwarves told Snow White that they were going to let her stay if she cooked, washed and kept the house clean."

Dean snorted.

"Aren't they a bit needy?" he asked.

"What, they can't cook for themselves?" asked Parvati Patil. "How did they survive up to then?"

"They're probably just lazy," said Terry with a smile. "Snow White agreed with them, because she liked to keep her house tidy."

"Well, this takes feminism back to 18th century," said Wayne.

"Anyway, Snow White lived happily with the dwarves, UNTIL!" Terry shouted and everyone jumped. "Until, one morning, the queen decided to talk to her mirror. When she asked it the same old question, the mirror replied,

'_You, my queen, are fair; it is true._

_But Snow White, beyond the mountains_

_With the seven dwarves,_

_Is still a thousand times fairer than you!_'"

"That damn mirror told her!" shouted Dean.

"Oh, yes, we should break it," added Wayne with his usual smirk.

"Well, I don't know how beautiful Snow White is, but she can't be better looking that Julia Roberts," said Kevin Entwhistle.

Some other Muggle-borns nodded in agreement.

"Who's Julia Roberts?" asked Michael curiously.

"She's a Muggle actress from America. You should see one of her films."

Students who didn't know what a 'film' was simply shook their heads.

"What would you recommend?" asked Anthony.

"Hm, 'I Love Trouble' is a good film," replied Kevin. "It came out last year."

Terry cleared his throat.

"Can we get back to the story?" he asked.

Kevin blushed and fell silent.

"So, where were we?" asked Terry.

"The mirror had betrayed Snow White," replied Ernie Macmillan.

"Oh, yes," Terry said. "Well, as soon as the queen found out Snow White was still alive, she got the huntsman executed for lying to her. She went into this secret room no one else could enter. Inside, she made a poisoned apple."

Everyone gasped.

"How dare she?" asked Mandy Brocklehurst.

"She wants to kill our Snowy!" said Dean. "It's not the poor girl's fault she has a terrible name!"

Terry chuckled and continued, "So, the queen disguised herself as an old woman and went to the dwarves' house. She knocked on the door and Snow White came out. The queen told Snowy that she was going to give her an apple for free, but Snowy said that she wasn't supposed to take anything from a stranger."

"Smart girl," said Lisa Turpin approvingly.

"But," continued Terry, "the apple was magical! Anyone who ever saw it, apart from the queen, had to taste it. So, naturally, Snow White took a bite. She fell to the ground and, well, died."

"No!" someone shouted.

"Poor Snow White!" said Susan Bones.

"That evening," said Terry, "when the dwarves came home from work, they found Snowy on the ground. They placed her in a beautiful glass coffin and mourned her for days. A prince was passing through the forest one day, when he noticed her. He thought she was beautiful so he decided to carry her to his castle. The dwarves helped him move the coffin, but they tripped and stumbled. The piece of poisoned apple fell from Snowy's mouth and she woke up."

The whole common room cheered.

"Wait, let me get this straight," said Michael. "She coughed and then came back to life?"

"Apparently," replied Terry, holding back his laughter. "So, the prince and Snowy got married and lived happily ever after."

"What was the romanticised version?" asked Lavender.

"Well, the prince kissed Snow White, broke the spell and she woke up."

After a few seconds of silence, everyone started laughing.

"Sorry?" asked Lavender incredulously.

"The prince was a necrophile!" shouted Anthony.

"The bloke probably just went around kissing corpses!" said Seamus and everyone broke into another round of laughter.

"Especially because the body would start decomposing after a few days…" muttered Michael, disgusted.

"Well, that's it for tonight, folks" said Terry. "I'll let you know when the next story night will be!"

After that, everyone left for their common rooms. Terry sat on the couch, between Anthony and Michael, placing his arms around their shoulders. Yes, Terry was proud, indeed.

**A/N: Well, this was a rather nice first chapter, I think. It would be nice if you could review, maybe tell me your ideas. Cheers! **


	3. The Sword In The Stone

**A/N: Wow, I didn't expect I would finish this chapter this fast. Well, it's a small one, but still... Expect another update soon =)**

**3. The Sword In The Stone**

"So, how about another story night?" Anthony asked one afternoon in the Ravenclaw common room, where he had been sitting with Terry and Michael.

Terry seemed deep in thought for a moment, before answering, "Well, other students _have _been asking me about it. Plus, it's been a few weeks since the last one. All right, why not?"

Michael smiled and got up from his armchair.

"I'll go tell Ginny and some other Gryffindors. Tony, you can tell the Hufflepuffs."

Anthony nodded.

"Okay, I'll tell them. Terry, you think of a story, all right?"

Terry smiled and nodded.

That evening, everyone was seated comfortably once again.

"Terry, mate, what are you going to tell us tonight?" asked Stephen Cornfoot.

"Well, I thought about it," said Terry, "and I decided to tell you one of my favourite legends, 'The Legend of King Arthur', also known as 'The Sword In The Stone'."

"What's it about?" asked Seamus Finnigan.

"Are you daft, Finnigan?" asked Wayne Hopkins. "It's obviously about a sword in a stone."

To stop further arguing, Terry stood in front of everyone and said, "It's a legend that describes how young Arthur became the King of England. It's not very long, but I always find it quite interesting. Shall I begin?"

He found no complaints, so he began.

"Once upon a time, a king called Uther Pendragon ruled England."

"His name was Uther?" asked fourth-year Gryffindor Boris Petrov. "That's quite a strange name."

"Like you're the one to talk, _Boris_," said Owen Cauldwell, a Hufflepuff second-year.

"Hey, what's wrong with everyone today?" asked Terry. "Why are you all fighting?"

"Sorry, Terry," said Wayne. "I think we're all just stressed out because of Umbridge."

Terry shook his head and continued, "Well, this king Uther Pendragon had a son, Arthur. Nobody knew where little Arthur was, because the powerful wizard Merlin hid Arthur for the boy's safety."

"This story features Merlin?" asked Stewart Ackerley. "That's brilliant!"

"So, after King Pendragon died," continued Terry, "everyone fought for the throne, because young Arthur was nowhere to be found."

"Did they even look for him?" asked Ginny Weasley.

"Well, who knows," answered Terry. "The noblemen who hoped to conquer the throne would've definitely been better off without Arthur. Anyway, on Christmas, Merlin appeared in a London cathedral. The citizens of England asked him who their new king would be. Merlin told them that one sword would decide the king. After that, he disappeared in a puff of smoke."

"Wow, Merlin sure had a flair for the dramatic," said Dean Thomas.

"When the people exited the cathedral, they saw a large stone in the middle of the courtyard. On the stone stood an anvil with a sword stuck in it. The sword was beautiful, decorated with rubies and emeralds. There was an inscription on the anvil. It read, '**Whoever shall pull this sword from this stone shall be the rightful King**'."

"So all they had to do was pull the sword out?" asked Demelza Robins.

"Well, it was enchanted, of course," replied Michael. "Only the true king could pull it out."

"So, only young Artie?" asked Hannah Abbott, smiling.

"Only young Artie," replied Anthony, returning her smile.

"Well, every knight in the kingdom tried to pull the sword out of the stone, but no one could do it," said Terry. "A few months later, a large knight tournament was to be held. An old man came with his sons, Kay and Arthur."

"How subtle!" said Wayne. "Like we don't know who he is."

"Anyway!" continued Terry, already annoyed because of all the interruptions. "Anyway, Kay was to compete in the tournament. Before it began, Kay realised he had left his sword in his tent. He sent Arthur to get it. Arthur searched and searched, but he couldn't find the sword."

"What is he, blind?" asked Caleb Matthews.

"Yeah, how hard is it to find a large, heavy sword?" added his twin, Cooper.

"Well, I don't know if Arthur was nearsighted, but the point is, he couldn't find the sword," said Terry. "On his way back to the valley where the tournament was being held, he noticed a large sword stuck in a stone in front of a cathedral. Even though Arthur knew stealing was bad, he was afraid of his brother, so he decided to take that one. He approached the stone and simply pulled out the sword."

"And thus, a new king was born!" said Hannah.

"All hail King Arthur!" shouted Justin Finch-Fletchley. "The greatest king of all!"

"Aw, Justin's got a crush!" teased Hannah.

Justin's ears turned pink.

"I like girls, Hannah," he muttered, obviously embarrassed.

"Aw, we like you too, Justin!" said Susan Bones, hugging him.

"How about we continue?" asked Anthony.

"I was just about to say the same thing, Tony," replied Terry. "So, Arthur brought the sword back to his brother. Kay quickly realised what sword that was, so he shouted, 'Look, I pulled the sword out of the stone! I'm the new King of England!'"

"That bastard!" shouted Wayne. "How dare he?"

"Such dishonesty... This Kay was not an honourable man," said Ernie Macmillan.

"Well, Kay's father didn't believe his son. He took the citizens to the cathedral and stuck the sword back into the stone. He told his son to pull it out again."

"Good man, this father of his," said Thomas Bradley. "Does he have a name?"

"Well, in some versions he's called 'Sir Antor', in some versions he's 'Sir Ector'. Some characters just don't get a name," said Terry. "So, Kay tried to pull the sword out of the stone, but, of course, he couldn't. He fell to the ground, ashamed."

"Serves him right," muttered Michael.

"Kay admitted that it was, in fact, his little brother that pulled the sword out. Arthur came up to the stone and pulled the sword out once again. Everyone shouted out in joy, for young Arthur was the new king! Suddenly, Merlin appeared."

"In a puff of smoke, no doubt," said Wayne, eliciting a few chuckles.

"Merlin told the people that Arthur was King Pendragon's son and the rightful king. He ruled England for a very long time and was respected." finished Terry.

"It was a great story, Ter," said Anthony.

Most of the students agreed to that and Terry beamed.

After that, everyone left for their common room.

While in bed, Terry, Michael and Anthony discussed their ideas for the next story. Anthony suggested another Muggle fairytale. Michael threw a pillow at him. Terry smiled and silently thanked Merlin for such great friends.

**A/N: Woo, another one done! I think this one wasn't as good as the last one, but I'm particularly fond of the last paragraph. It makes me feel mushy =D**


	4. Cinderella

**A/N: I'm experiencing a **_**really **_**bad writer's block, that's why this took so long. I'm trying to overcome it ****and fix my grades at the same time. -_-**

**4. Cinderella**

It was a normal evening in the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory. Terry Boot was reading a book, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein were having a heated debate about Arithmancy and Stephen Cornfoot and Kevin Entwhistle were playing chess. After a while, Terry raised his head from the book he was reading.

"Hey, guys, do you think you're up for another Muggle fairytale?" he asked.

Kevin, who was Muggle-born, rolled his eyes, but the other three boys nodded their heads enthusiastically.

"This one won't have blokes kissing corpses, will it?" Stephen asked worriedly.

"No, Steve, I promise it won't," Terry said with a chuckle. "I'm going to tell you the story of Cinderella."

The boys sat on their beds comfortably and turned to Terry, who stood up on his own bed.

"Once upon a time," he began, "there lived a rich man who had a beautiful daughter. Her name was Cinderella."

"Whoa, whoa!" shouted Michael. "What man in his right mind names his daughter Cinderella?"

"Well, at least it's not as bad as _Snow White_," said Anthony with a snort.

"Well, Cinderella was more of a nickname, per se. You'll see why later," said Terry. "Cinderella's mother died a few years ago and soon, her father married a woman that was very beautiful, but rotten on the inside."

"Here we go again..." muttered Kevin. "It's always the step-mother."

"Yes, well, she was mean," said Terry. "Cinderella's step-mother had two other daughters she had brought into the marriage."

"Were they beautiful as well?" asked Michael.

"No, they were quite ugly, actually," said Terry. "They weren't the best of persons either, quite mean. Cinderella's father died soon, so she was left with her evil step-mother and step-sisters."

"Did they happen to have names?" asked Stephen.

"Well, there are many versions..." Terry said.

"In the Disney version, they're Lady Tremaine and Anastasia and Drizella," said Kevin helpfully.

"All right," said Terry, seemingly satisfied. "So, Lady Tremaine forced Cinderella to dress as a scullery maid and clean the house. She used to sit in cinder and cry, that's how she got her nickname. One day, the prince of that kingdom organised a ball and invited all ladies in the kingdom, so he could find a wife."

"_All _ladies in the kingdom?" asked Anthony incredulously. "How big was his castle?"

Terry rolled his eyes.

"I don't know, Tony, maybe it was just a small country, like Vatican or San Marino, or something," he said. "Anyway, Cinderella wanted to go to the ball, but Lady Tremaine said she could go only if she made her own dress, got her own jewellery, finished all work beforehand and got her own ride to the castle."

"Wow, this lady is really starting to annoy me," said Michael.

"Only now?" asked Stephen. "So, what did Cindy do?"

"Well, she went and sat in the cinders, starting to cry," said Terry. "Suddenly, her fairy godmother appeared!"

The boys looked at each other blankly.

"Why does she have a fairy godmother?" asked Stephen. "Don't get me wrong, they're cute little creatures, but they're not exactly bright."

"Well, Muggles have a different view on fairies," said Kevin. "They think they're like humans, only more beautiful and dangerous."

"So, sort of like a Veela?" asked Anthony.

"Well, yeah, something like that," said Kevin. "Although, if I remember well, this particular fairy was old and chubby, but she had magical powers."

"How strange," Michael said.

"It is quite odd," said Terry. "Anyway, her godmother asked her what was wrong. Cinderella explained her problem, crying all the while."

"Well, someone's very emotional," said Stephen.

"PMS," said Michael knowingly. "A week ago, Ginny tried to strangle me when I said red and gold clashed with her hair."

"All right, maybe Cinderella was PMSing," said Terry. "Whatever it was, she was feeling hormonal. Her godmother took out her wand and transformed Cinderella's dirty clothes into a beautiful dress, along with glass slippers."

"Glass slippers?" asked Anthony. "Aren't those a bit impractical?"

"You know, I've never thought about it," said Kevin, "but that does sound a bit odd. Surely Cinderella was worried her brand new shoes would break?"

"Well, if the fairy had a wand, maybe she simply charmed the slippers so they wouldn't break," said Stephen sagely. "Maybe Cinderella was extremely light, or something."

"Well, the slippers didn't break," said Terry. "The godmother also took a large pumpkin and transformed it into a carriage, while turning a few mice into horses."

"Maybe it was McGonagall," said Michael with a snort.

"Wait till she hears you compared her to an old, short and chubby fairy," said Stephen, grinning at Michael.

"That would be quite a scene," noted Terry. "The godmother also told Cinderella she had to come home by midnight, because that's when everything would be turning back to normal."

"What, she couldn't have given her another hour?" asked Anthony.

"Apparently not. Cinderella agreed and left for the castle. When she got there, the prince immediately asked her to dance with him. Her step-mother and step-sisters saw her, but didn't recognise her."

"Just because she was wearing another dress?" asked Michael. "Well, talk about family."

"They danced the entire evening, but midnight came fast. Cinderella ran outside and down a large staircase."

"Better be careful when running down a set of stairs," said Kevin. "I once fell down from the top staircase and Flitwick levitated me up."

Everybody laughed.

"That was so great..." Stephen remembered fondly.

"Anyway," Terry continued, "the prince ran after Cinderella. He noticed she'd left her shoe in hurry, so he picked it up. He didn't know her name, so he decided he would marry the girl who could fit into the glass slipper."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" said Michael. "He's going to marry the girl who can put on a shoe?"

"He doesn't even know her name!" said Anthony. "How can he marry her? Doesn't he know marriages are based upon common interests? How will he know what she likes? Many marriages nowadays end in divorce because..."

"Whoa, Tony, mate!" Stephen cut him off. "I think you're over-analysing this."

"Yeah," said Kevin. "In the old days, blokes just got married to a girl they met once or twice. It wasn't anything unusual."

"I agree with Tony, though," said Terry. "This marriage is destined to fail. Anyway, the prince and his servant went all through the kingdom, making ladies everywhere put on the shoe, but no one's foot seemed to fit."

"Kingdom of Bigfootia," muttered Stephen.

"Nah, that just makes it look as if Bigfoot lives there," Kevin replied.

"Soon, the prince arrived at the house where Cinderella lived. Lady Tremaine seemed to catch on, so she locked Cinderella in the attic."

"What a bitch!" shouted Michael.

"Well, at least she's smart," said Stephen. "Everybody else seems stupid or blind or something."

"She might be smart, but she's extremely unpleasant," said Terry, disgust etched on his face. "When the older daughter, Drizella, was to try the shoe, her mother noticed her foot would be too big, so she... Well, she cut of her toes."

The whole room was silent for a moment.

"Whoa," said Michael. "Just... Whoa."

"Muggles tell this story to children?" asked Anthony, adjusting his glasses. "Blimey, I'm glad I got to hear about Babbitty Rabbitty and the Three Brothers."

"It is quite terrible, isn't it?" said Terry sadly. "Unfortunately, that's not all. Drizella tried on the shoe and it fit, so the prince took her to the carriage..."

"...While she was screaming like a banshee," added Michael.

"Quite possibly, yes," said Terry with a grin.

"The prince didn't notice how his bride seemed uglier than before?" asked Kevin.

"Well, he was probably disappointed but didn't want to show it," said Anthony. "Quite a nice guy, if not a bit near-sighted."

"Well, on the ride back to the castle, the prince's servant noticed there was something wrong. They noticed Drizella's, um, predicament, so they drove back to the house. Lady Tremaine was furious that her little trick didn't work, so she prepared Anastasia as well."

"Let me guess, she cut her heal off?" asked Michael bitterly.

Terry seemed confused.

"That's, actually, exactly what she did."

The room fell silent again.

"But, but, how would she walk without a heal?" asked Anthony.

"Wouldn't she just be falling backwards?" added Stephen.

"Probably, but never mind that," said Terry. "Anastasia tried the shoe on and it fit perfectly."

"And no one bothered to check for any more body parts?" asked Michael.

"The prince was not only near-sighted, but fairly daft, obviously," said Terry. "Anyway, they noticed Anastasia's agony in the carriage and came back again. The prince asked if there were any more young ladies in the house. Lady Tremaine said that her scullery maid was up in the attic, but the she did not attend the ball. The prince demanded that she be allowed to try on the shoe as well."

"See, he is a smart guy after all!" said Stephen. "Well, if not particularly smart, then at least noble."

"I agree with you there, Steve," said Terry. "But, unfortunately, Lady Tremaine doesn't. She tripped the prince's servant so he would fall down and break the shoe."

"Well, it appears the fairy didn't charm it after all," said Anthony.

"But, Cinderella was smart, so she went to her room in the attic and brought the other, matching shoe!" said Terry triumphantly. "She tried it on and it fit perfectly!"

"Well of course it did, it was her shoe!" said Kevin. "She could've bought it anywhere!"

"Well, I don't know how many stores sell dangerous glass shoes," said Terry, "but the point is, the prince took her to the carriage, they got married and everyone lived happily ever after."

"Except the horribly mutilated sisters," muttered Michael.

"Well, that adorably disgusting story made me sleepy," said Stephen, adjusting himself on his bed. "'Night, all."

"Good night," the boys all mumbled, sleep overtaking them. Terry's last conscious thought was a hope he wouldn't dream about foot-chopping step-mothers.


	5. Goldilocks

**A/N: I think I might've gotten over my writer's block at least for a little while. I'll try to update as often as I can.**

It was a cold December day. There was only a week left till Christmas and the entire school was preparing. Terry, Michael and Anthony were sitting on a bench near the lake, watching some younger students try to skate on the frozen surface.

"Hey, Ter?" Michael said, blowing hot air into his hands. "How about you tell us another story while we're here?"

Terry took a bite of the apple he had with him and hesitated.

"Now?" he finally asked. "To just the two of you?"

"Yeah, why not?" asked Anthony, adjusting his glasses and sticking his hands into his pockets. "It might make us feel warmer."

Terry contemplated this for a second before replying, "Oh, all right. I'll tell you the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears."

"Goldilocks?" asked Michael incredulously. "Another odd name? Jesus, you'd think Muggles couldn't pronounce normal names."

"Let me guess, she wasn't blonde?" asked Anthony.

"What? Of course she was blonde," said Terry. "Why else would they name her Goldilocks?"

"I don't know, these stories are really strange!" Anthony said defensively. "She might as well have been a redhead or something."

"Well, she wasn't. She was a young, blonde girl who lived near the forest," said Terry. "One day, she decided to have a walk in the forest."

"Uh-oh," said Michael. "These things usually end badly."

"You're quite right, Mike," said Terry with a smile. "Goldilocks came upon a cottage in the woods. She knocked on the door and when no one answered, she walked in."

"Whoa, breaking and entering? This girl's a criminal!" said Anthony incredulously.

"Whoever lives there should go back and call the Law Enforcement squad, or the, um... Policemen, yeah!" said Michael.

"I know, that was a rather rude thing to do, wasn't it?" asked Terry. "Anyway, when she entered, she noticed a table and three bowls of porridge on it. You see, the house belonged to a family of bears, Mama Bear, Papa Bear and Baby Bear."

Anthony and Michael shared a look.

"Um, no offense, Terry, but bears don't talk," said Anthony.

"Nor do they eat porridge, or live in cottages," added Michael.

"I know, I know, but that's just how the story goes," replied Terry. "Pretend they were just really hairy humans or something. So, Goldilocks first sat on Papa Bear's chair, but she exclaimed, 'This chair is too hard!"

"First, she breaks into their home and now the furniture isn't accommodating?" muttered Anthony.

"Then she sat in Mama Bear's chair and said, 'Oh no, this chair is too soft!"

"How on earth can a chair be 'too soft'?" asked Michael. "Did she sink into it, was it made out of foam?"

"Maybe she was trying to keep her back straight," said Anthony. "Maybe it missed a couple of springs."

"Whatever it was," Terry said, "it was definitely too soft. Finally, she sat in Baby Bear's chair and shouted, 'Well, this chair is just right!' she sat on the chair for a little while longer, but then it broke."

"Oh, lovely!" said Michael. "Not only did she break into their house, but she also broke the poor little bear's chair? She's a daft one, she is."

"Yes, she does seem a bit stupid, doesn't she?" Terry asked, scratching his chin. "Well, back to the story. She walked over to Papa Bear's porridge, tried it, but it was too hot for her."

"That's odd," said Anthony. "You'd think the porridge would've cooled off by then."

"Well, when she tried Mama Bear's porridge, it was too cold," Terry replied.

Michael and Anthony stared in disbelief.

"What? But how is that possible?" Anthony asked frantically. "The porridge was poured from the same pot, I presume. How is it that Mama Bear's porridge cooled off, while Papa Bear's porridge stayed hot?"

"Well, maybe Goldilocks's tongue was burned when she first tried the porridge, so when she tried the next one, it seemed colder," said Michael.

"Yes, but the second porridge would merely be mildly warm, not really cold! It is possible that there was a window near Mama's bowl, but how big of a table would that be? A window cooling one porridge off, while the other one stayed the same?"

"Tony, as always, I think you're overanalysing things," said Terry. "It's one of your best qualities, really, but can we get back to the story right now?"

Anthony quieted down sheepishly.

"Good," said Terry, clapping his hands once. "Moving on. When Goldilocks tried Baby Bear's porridge, it was just right. After finishing it all, she decided she needed a nap, so she went upstairs to find a bed."

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous!" said Michael. "She also ate their food, and now she wants to sleep there? That's not a hotel, you know!"

"At least Snow White had the decency of cleaning up before going to bed," added Anthony with a grin.

"Yes, I agree," said Terry. "That was not only rude, but really, really stupid. You'd think her parents would teach her not to sleep in strange cottages. Anyway, she tried out the beds: Papa's was to uncomfortable, Mama's was too comfortable and Baby's was good."

"Again with the 'too comfortable'!" said Michael. "Was Mama Bear's a cardboard cut-out? Why was she so light that she wouldn't sink, but that a little girl would?"

"I don't know, maybe the bed really was made of foam," Terry said, chuckling softly. "So, she lay down and fell asleep. A few hours later, the bears returned. 'Someone sat in my chair!' said Papa Bear. 'Someone sat in _my_ chair!' said Mama Bear. 'Someone sat in _my_ chair,' cried Baby Bear, 'and they broke it!'" They did the same thing with the porridge, finally going up to the bedroom to find Goldilocks there."

"Did they eat her?" asked Michael.

"Well, it depends on the version really. In some versions, she becomes their friend."

"Yeah, after destroying their house," mumbled Anthony.

"Well, that's the end of the story," said Terry. "I guess it was a short one."

"It was great, Terry," said Michael, patting his best friend on his shoulder. "Come on, let's get to the castle."

With that, the three friends got up and walked up to the castle, their troubles forgotten for the time being.


	6. The Little Match Girl

**A/N: I'm quite proud of this chapter. I consider it emotional, although that could be just because I adore Wayne Hopkins so much. Please tell me your opinions.**

It was Christmas Eve and Terry was sitting in front of the fireplace, warming his hands up. His two best friends, Michael and Anthony, would be coming in a couple of hours so the three of them could celebrate Christmas together.

Terry's mother, Eleanor Boot, was in the kitchen, trying to make a roasted turkey. Cooking was never her strongest point, but she always tried hard. Terry's father, Paul Boot, worked for the Ministry of Magic and was expected to arrive just before midnight.

Just as Terry was pondering his father's arrival, a knock was heard on the door.

"Terry, go see who it is!" shouted his Mum from the kitchen.

Terry got up and walked over to the heavy wooden door. He opened them to find his neighbour, Hufflepuff Wayne Hopkins, standing there, looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Evening, Boot. My foster mother said I had to come over and wish you a merry Christmas," Wayne said, offering him a plate of what seemed to be muffins.

"Thanks, Wayne," Terry said, accepting the plate. It was utterly unlike Wayne to be so friendly when there was no gain involved for him. "Your mother _does _know you're a strict atheist, right?"

Wayne rolled his eyes.

"Foster mother, Terrence," he said, clicking his tongue in annoyance. "And yes, of course she does. Apparently, it's the polite thing to do."

Terry nodded, amused. It was just like Wayne's foster mother to do so.

"Would you like to come in?" Terry asked.

Wayne hesitated for a moment, before replying, "Of course not, Boot. Why on earth would I want to do that? I thought you'd have Goldilocks and Corner coming over."

Terry rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Wayne, Michael and Anthony are coming over in a couple of hours."

Wayne snorted.

"So you want me to fill your time, so you wouldn't have to be alone? Tough luck, Boot."

He turned to leave, shivering slightly in the cold air.

"If you stay, I'll tell you a story!" Terry said, smiling at Wayne's sudden stop.

"I'm not a ten-year-old, Boot, I don't need your stories," Wayne said without turning around. Terry could sense him slowly changing his mind. "However, if you have hot chocolate, I'd be willing to stick around."

Terry grinned at that, knowing that getting Wayne Hopkins to listen to you was a long and hard process.

"Sure, Wayne, I'm sure Mum will make you some hot chocolate," he said, allowing Wayne to walk past him and enter the house.

Wayne left his dark coat on the hanger and took off his shoes. He looked at the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and scowled.

"I see you've decorated," he said, frowning at the fireplace.

Hoping to avoid a heated discussion, Terry hurried to Wayne's side.

"Well, as you know, I'm an atheist too," he said, "My family likes celebrating Christmas because it's a tradition, we don't have to be religious to do that."

Wayne shook his head in disapproval and sat down on the comfy red sofa.

"So, how about that hot chocolate?" he asked.

Terry hurried off to the kitchen, alerting his mother of Wayne's presence and asking her to make them hot chocolate. When he returned, he found Wayne staring at the fire.

"So," he said, making Wayne jump, "do you want me to start that story?"

Wayne hesitated.

"Sure, but let's make it an interesting story. Something that deals with Christmas, but isn't all joy and happiness."

Terry smiled, replying, "I think I know just the story."

He sat on the sofa next to Wayne and started his tale,

"Once, a long time ago, a little girl walked down the street, carrying matchsticks in her apron. The weather was very cold and the poor girl had just the small apron and no shoes."

"She had no shoes?" Wayne snorted. "Way to keep yourself warm. How on earth did she manage to lose her shoes?"

"One of them she lost and the other one was stolen by some bloke," Terry offered. "Anyway, the girl was very cold. She didn't sell a single match that evening and she was afraid to go home."

"Ah, the story of my life!" said Wayne with a grin. "Wayne Hopkins, the little match boy!"

Terry rolled his eyes.

"Wayne, you were abused by your step-father because he was a git, not because you couldn't sell matches."

"Don't forget that bloody enabling bitch I used to call my mother, Terrence!" Wayne said in a sharp tone. "If she did what any normal mother would've done and tried to protect me from my step-father, like I would've done for her, I wouldn't be here now and you would have no one to tell this story to."

"Okay, then, back to the story," said Terry. "The little girl was afraid to go home because she still had all of her matches, so she sat down between two houses, trying to warm herself up. It was New Year's Eve and she could smell roasted turkey from every window and hear laughter coming from inside. The little girl decided to light a match so she could warm up."

Wayne snorted.

"Surely that would be even more useless? If she went home with no matches _and _no money?"

"Well then, what would you do if you couldn't do magic?" Terry asked, feeling annoyed.

"I would go into one of those houses and ask for some food," Wayne said with a grin. "I'm very good at begging."

Terry clicked his tongue and took the hot chocolate his mother brought.

"Well, maybe the girl didn't want to lose her dignity and beg."

"Ah, I've lost my dignity a long time ago, Blue-eyes," said Wayne, taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

"Anyway, when she lit the match, she imagined sitting next to a fireplace, all warm and sweet. She felt so nice, but then, alas, the match went out. She found herself staring at the cold, damp wall again."

"Hallucinations are never a good sign," said Wayne good-naturedly.

"How can you be so insensitive?" asked Terry.

Wayne smiled an honest smile.

"I'm not being insensitive, Terry, I'm being realistic," he said, staring at his cup. "Some people deal with sadness that way."

Terry felt a bit odd for not guessing that it was Wayne's normal reaction to depressive situations. It was his defence mechanism, his way of not letting emotions touch him. Terry suddenly felt sad.

"Well, um, she decided to light another match," he said. "Now, she saw a large table, filled with different sorts of food. A roasted turkey, Yorkshire pudding, steaks, treacle tart, muffins, chocolate, strawberries... As the girl reached to have a bite, it all disappeared and she was left staring at the wall again, freezing."

Terry looked at Wayne, who, surprisingly, didn't seem to have much to say. Terry hesitated for a moment, before returning to the story.

"The girl started crying and decided to use another match. Suddenly, she found herself back in the same room, although, this time, her grandmother was there as well. 'Oh, grandma!' the girl cried, 'please, take me with you! I can't let you disappear as well!' She started lightning all of her matches, not allowing them to burn out, just so she could look at her grandmother, who she loved very, very much. Soon, her grandma took her into her arms and the little girl never felt warmer. Her grandmother flew to the sky with her, where they would be happy and warm forever."

Terry took a deep breath.

"The next morning, some passers-by saw the little girl lying dead next to the house. 'She tried to warm herself' said someone, noticing her matches. No one could imagine what wonderful things she'd seen before her untimely death."

Wayne suddenly seemed tired and worn-out. Terry couldn't tell whether it was only his own view on Wayne that had changed.

"I suppose I should go. I promised Tommy I would write him a letter," Wayne said, getting up from his chair.

Tommy Cardigan was a Ravenclaw student, Head Boy and Wayne's boyfriend. Well, Wayne refused to call him that, opting to call him a mentor, although he never denied their relationship being romantic in nature.

As Wayne opened the door to leave, Terry said, "Merry Christmas, Wayne."

Wayne gave him one of his rare genuine smiles, whispering, "Merry Christmas to you as well, Terry."

After Wayne left, Terry suddenly remembered his father's favourite line from a Muggle song, '_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_...'


	7. Hansel and Gretel

After the holidays had ended, Terry, Michael and Anthony boarded the Hogwarts Express for their journey back to school. They sat in a compartment with some of their fellow Ravenclaws, Stephen Cornfoot, Kevin Entwhistle and Lisa Turpin. The friends were bored for during the trip; Kevin and Lisa kept kissing and whispering something, Stephen and Michael were having a live discussion about Quidditch and Terry and Anthony were quietly discussing their Arithmancy homework.

A couple of hours after the train's departure, Stephen and Lisa started playfully arguing about something, as friends often do. Lisa would say something insulting, Stephen would tickle her, Lisa would scream and giggle and everyone else would roll their eyes.

After some time, Michael just couldn't take it anymore, so he shouted, "Oi, you two! Hansel and Gretel! Stop being so bloody annoying!"

Stephen and Lisa stopped laughing immediately.

"Um, Michael, who are Hansel and Gretel?" asked Lisa, slowly scratching her neck.

"Uh, Terry will explain it," Michael grumbled, knowing that his friend was the fairy tale expert.

"Unfortunately, Mike, I don't have the slightest clue about who Hansel and Gretel are," Terry said, eliciting surprised gasps from his friends. "Their names sound familiar, I admit, but I'm afraid I don't really know who they happen to be."

Michael sat up, his eyes widening dramatically.

"Wait, you're serious? I know something about fairy tales that you don't? Merlin, I never thought this day would arrive!"

Terry rolled his eyes.

"Now, really, Michael, I don't know _everything _there is to know about fairy tales, obviously," he said. "Why don't you tell us this tale?"

"Yes, Mike, enlighten us," said Anthony, winking at Michael under his glasses.

Michael seemed hesitant for a second, but hearing his friends' shouts of approval, he finally agreed.

"All right, let's get started then!" he said, rubbing his palms together. "Once upon a time, a woodcutter and his family lived in the woods. They were really poor and they rarely had something to eat."

"Why?" asked Stephen. "He was a woodcutter, they lived in the woods. Why on earth would they be poor?"

"Maybe he ran out of buyers and he couldn't sell wood anymore," said Kevin reasonably.

"The woodcutter had two children and his wife was their step-mother," said Michael, ignoring Kevin's mumbled swear. "One evening, the woodcutter's wife looked at him and said, 'Husband, we've no food anymore. We must take the children far out into the woods so that we may survive.'"

"Uh, how rotten!" said Lisa.

"Just so you know, in the original version, she's their actual mother," said Kevin. "Just so we make it clear, not all step-mothers are evil, nor are all mothers good."

"I'm sure Wayne Hopkins would agree with you," muttered Terry.

"Anyway," continued Michael, "the husband fought for a while, but eventually gave in. Hansel and Gretel overheard this as they lay in their beds, feeling hungry."

"Poor kids," said Lisa. "I know how they feel. Where on earth is that woman with the sweets trolley?"

"What kind of names are Hansel and Gretel anyway?" asked Stephen.

"Hansel is the variation of the German 'Hans'," said Anthony, adjusting his glasses. "It literally means 'little Hans' so we can assume Hansel was his nickname and that Hans was his real name. In English, it translates into 'John'. It means 'God is gracious'. Gretel is a variation of the name 'Greta', which in turn is the shortened version of the Greek name 'Margaret' which means 'pearl'."

Stephen stared at him for a couple of moments.

"It was a rhetorical question, Tony," he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Oh. Sorry," Anthony said, his cheeks reddening.

"Back to the story!" Michael shouted, making them jump. "Our own Hans and Margaret were very sad when they heard what their parents said. Little Hansel..."

"You can't say little Hansel, Michael," said Terry.

"Why not?" asked Kevin curiously.

"Because it's a pleonasm," said Michael, rubbing his temples. "I can't believe I forgot."

"It's all right, it happens to the best of us," said Anthony, smiling encouragingly at his best friend.

"I guess," Michael said. "Okay, so, when the parents were asleep, _little Hans _got up from his bed and reached the window. Gretel asked his what he was doing, but he told her to be quiet and wait for him. He returned a few minutes later, his shirt filled with white pebbles."

"What, is he starting a pebble collection?" asked Stephen.

"No, I don't think he had time to think of that," said Michael with a smile. "He was too busy worrying about his upcoming death, you see. In the morning, the father took Hansel and Gretel outside the cottage. Hansel had brought his little pebbles with him..."

"Again, Mike," Terry said, grinning slowly.

"Damn it!" Michael swore, shaking his head. "I don't know what's going on with me today! Uh, _anyway_, their step-mother gave them both some bread and told the father to go deep into the forest."

"Why did she give them bread?" asked Lisa.

"I'm guessing it was to calm her guilty conscience," said Michael. "They weren't going to kill the children, they were just going to hope that they got lost."

"What I don't understand is why the step-mother didn't work," said Kevin thoughtfully. "I understand that women mostly stayed at home in that period, but if they were starving, I'm sure her husband wouldn't mind her helping him."

"Yeah, and Hansel and Gretel could work as well!" said Lisa. "That way, they wouldn't starve!"

"Apparently, none of them were as smart as you two are," said Michael. "As they started walking, Hansel took one of the white pebbles from his pocket and dropped it on the ground."

"Ah, yes, that's what I thought," muttered Terry.

"Why would he do that?" asked Stephen.

"It's really quite simple, Steve," said Michael with a smile. "All the way into the forest, Hansel dropped the pebbles, one by one, hoping to find the way home afterwards."

"Why would he want to do that, though?" asked Anthony. "I certainly wouldn't go back to the people who tried to kill me."

"Maybe the story is trying to illustrate how strong unconditional love is," said Terry. "Although, it greatly failed, in my opinion."

"So, the father dropped his kids of in the forest and left to cut some wood," Michael continued. "Hansel and Gretel ate their bread and fell asleep. A couple of hours later, they woke up. It was dark and they were scared and confused."

"Aw, poor kids!" said Lisa. "I just want to hug them and hold them!"

"Well, no one else is obviously going to do that," said Michael bitterly. "The kids got up and Hansel started examining the ground. Finally, he found his trail of pebbles."

"In the middle of the night?" asked Kevin. "In the dark?"

"Maybe Hansel could teach Cho Chang how to catch the Snitch," said Stephen, sniggering. "He obviously has good eye-sight."

Michael grinned.

"Yeah, the pebbles sort of glowed in the moonlight. The kids started following the trail, finally making their way back home."

"I'm sure the parents were surprised," said Terry, absent-mindedly ruffling Anthony's hair.

"Yes, they certainly were," said Michael. "The family got by for some time, but soon, they were starving again."

"How did they get by?" asked Lisa. "Weren't they just ridiculously poor? Did the step-mum finally start working?"

"I'm not sure, maybe she did," said Michael thoughtfully. "It's probably just a loophole. Anyway, the parents decided on leaving their kids in the forest once again. Again, Hans tried to get out of his room, but this time, the window was locked and he couldn't."

"Hm, so the step-mum probably guessed what happened," said Stephen. "Good for her!"

"Yes, but not so good for our poor heroes," said Michael. "In the morning, the step-mum gave them some bread once again. This time, Hansel didn't eat his bread: he placed it into his pockets."

"Oh, no," groaned Lisa. "He's not actually going to..:"

"I think he is, Lise," said Stephen. "I think he is."

"Right again, of course," said Michael. "During their trip to the woods, Hansel dropped little crumbs of bread on the ground."

"Is he an idiot?" asked Stephen. "Because, honestly, this is very stupid."

"Well, we mustn't forget, the children were very little," said Michael. "In the evening, Hansel and his sister noticed that the crumbs of bread were, of course, eaten by birds and other animals. They sat down and cried in despair until the finally fell asleep. When they woke up, they saw a peculiar little white bird."

"It couldn't have been a Northern Gannet, as they're not small. A Great Egret is also quite large and lives by the sea. I suppose it could've been a Cattle Egret, but it lives in the tropics as well. A Common Gull, possibly, but they're not all white, nor are the Iceland Gulls, who are rare in Europe. Maybe it was just a white Dove."

Everyone looked at Anthony.

"Seriously, mate, is there something you don't know?" asked Stephen.

"My memory is very good," said Anthony, wiping his glasses hurriedly.

"Whatever the bird was, it was very intriguing. Hansel and Gretel got up and followed it deeper into he forest."

"Because they're idiots who follow birds instead of trying to find their way out," said Kevin. "Although, in most of these stories, an odd and friendly animal actually _is _the way out."

Michael nodded.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a way _out, _but it _did_ lead them towards an odd little house."

"Why was it odd?" asked Terry. "Was it very small, or did it have no windows...?"

"Actually, it was made completely out of sweets," said Michael, looking into the distance.

"Com- completely out of sweets?" asked Lisa, her mouth watering ever so slightly. "Now I _really _want to find that lady with the trolley."

"Yes, it was made of gingerbread," Michael continued, "and it was covered with bits of chocolate and little sweets..."

"Were there any Bertie Bott's?" asked Stephen, his eyes glazed over.

"Well..." Michael hesitated, "This _is _a Muggle story... But sure, we can say that. Let's say that the foundation was made out of Every Flavour Beans, that Chocolate Frogs jumped around happily, that Ice Mice squeaked on the window panes... The windows were transparent sugar candy and the fence was made out of peppermint sticks. The chimney was made out of Cauldron Cakes, with Chocoballs on top. Fizzing Whizzbees were sticking out of the walls, along with Liquorice Wands and Sugar Quills, and the roof was made out of best chocolate, with occasional Pink Coconut Ice."

By now, almost everyone's mouth was watering.

"Maybe..." started Stephen weakly, "Maybe I should check to see where the trolley-lady went."

"Oh, please do, Steve!" said Lisa, looking positively desperate. "I need my Ice Mice!"

"The, um, Chocoballs have strawberry filling, right?" asked Terry, whose love of strawberries was known by most of his acquaintances.

"Uh, Sugar Quills..." said Anthony distractedly.

"Right-o!" said Michael, trying to concentrate. "Hansel and Gretel acted like we just did and ran over to the house, diving in."

"Well, they could've at least knocked first," said Terry, shaking his head.

"Exactly. A few minutes later, they heard a voice saying, 'Nibble, nibble, like a mouse, who is eating up my house?'", said Michael in what he thought was an old lady voice.

"Uh-oh, that's bad," said Stephen. "Although, that person _did _make a sweet house, it's not like someone could resist trying it."

"I don't think I could even try living in that house without eating it," said Kevin.

"Maybe the owner had diabetes," said Anthony. "My grandma has it."

"Uh, I don't think it was that, Tony," said Michael, smiling. "Hansel and Gretel replied, 'Tis the tempest wild, the storm's own child!'"

"Seriously? Not only do they start eating someone's house, but they also lie about it?" asked Lisa incredulously.

"And in rhyme," sniggered Stephen.

"And so lamely," finished Kevin.

"How on earth would anyone believe that?" asked Anthony. "It's like if someone asks 'Is there anyone home?' and you shout 'No'."

"Plus, how did the owner even know that someone was eating the house?" asked Lisa. "Homenum Revelio?"

"Probably," replied Michael. "Anyway, the door of the house opened and an old woman walked out of it. The children explained what had happened and she invited them in."

"Uh-oh," said Kevin. "Why do kids never remember not to follow strangers?"

"Well, I suppose they really were starving," said Stephen.

"The 'nice' old lady gave them dinner," said Michael, "and took them to bed. The beds were soft and pearly white."

"See, that's lovely!" said Stephen. "The lady gives them food and lets them sleep. Good for them!"

Kevin snorted.

"I don't think so, Steve," he said.

"Kev is right, of course," Michael added. "The old lady turned out to be an evil witch."

"Uh, why didn't I see it coming?" asked Terry, shaking his head.

"When the children fell asleep, the witch locked Hansel in a bird cage," said Michael.

"That's... odd," said Lisa. "What exactly was she planning to do with him?"

"Well... She was going to eat him," said Michael, grimacing.

"And Muggles seriously tell these stories to children?" asked Stephen. "Blimey, I'd run away from home."

"So, the witch made Hansel eat and eat, while making Gretel clean, cook and do housework," said Michael. "But, the children were brighter than they let on; you see, they noticed that the witch had very poor eyesight."

"Why doesn't she just fix it with magic?" asked Lisa.

"Oh, come off it, Lisa, you know that's dangerous!" said Stephen. "That's why most people choose not to do it. Plus, you'd need a Healer to perform the charm. God forbid a random witch with lousy eyesight try it."

"Right, so, every time when the witch wanted to see how fat Hansel had become, she would ask him to give her his finger, only he would give her a chicken bone instead."

"And the witch didn't think that was suspicious?" asked Terry. "The fact that he wasn't getting any larger?"

"Apparently not," replied Michael. "In the end, she decided to eat him anyway and she made Gretel turn on the oven. Gretel pretended not to know how, so the witch decided to show her..."

"Uh-oh," said Anthony.

"...and Gretel pushed her inside, turning up the fire."

Everyone fell silent and stared at Michael.

"So, little Gretel's a murdering maniac already, huh?" asked Stephen. "So young and so special."

"Finally, Hansel and Gretel ran away and went home."

"How did they find their way now?" asked Lisa.

"The same bird from before showed them the way," said Michael.

"Yeah, because following that bird went so well the first time," said Kevin.

"So, the kids returned to their homicidal parents," said Stephen. "Now Lisa, please step out of the compartment, we'd like to change."


	8. Beauty and the Beast

**A/N: There are no excuses, I know. I promise to update more often, I do! **

"Once upon a time," said Terry, closing his eyes and smiling at his Hufflepuff-only audience.

He was in the Hufflepuff common room, which he visited because he was really, really bored. Michael and Anthony were helping Professor Flitwick with something. Stephen and Kevin were at Quidditch practice, and Su, Lisa, Sarah and Mandy were doing their Transfiguration homework, something Terry had finished days ago. So, being bored and alone, he wandered off to the Hufflepuff common room, with the intention to tell a story.

"Once upon a time," he repeated, "there was a father and his three daughters, living in a large, luxurious house."

"The mother is dead once again?" asked Wayne Hopkins. "Lucky them."

"Wayne!" chastised his best friend, Megan Jones. "You can't speak like that!"

"I bloody well can," Wayne snapped at her. "But, whatever. Go on, Boot."

"All right," Terry said awkwardly. "So, the family was very rich. The father had many merchant ships and he earned a lot of money every year."

"Let me guess, he was very vain because of it?" asked Hannah Abbott. "I mean, there's no step-mother, somebody has to be the villain."

"Uh, not quite, Hannah," said Terry. "Exactly the opposite, actually; the father was very humble and kind-hearted, just like his youngest daughter, Belle."

"Doesn't that mean 'beautiful' in French?" asked Ernie Macmillan "I have a cousin in Beauxbatons and her name is Belle."

"Yes, Ernie, it does," said Terry, smiling at his friend. "Belle was very beautiful, so they named her that."

"I'm guessing her sisters were jealous?" asked Susan Bones. "I would be, if my sister's name was 'Beauty'."

"Well, imagine your name being 'Brains'," said Wayne with a laugh. "You'd have every right to be mad then!"

"The sisters were absolutely, most definitely jealous," said Terry. "You see, the two older sisters were very arrogant and conceited. They enjoyed their rich life too much, always spending money and acting stuck-up."

"Oh, I hope something bad happens to them during the story!" said Eleanor Bramstone, a second-year. "Then they'll learn that money isn't everything!"

A couple of her friends nodded in agreement. Justin Finch-Fletchley raised his glass and nodded to her.

"Right," said Terry, running a hand through his hair. "Well, one day, all of the ships the father had were destroyed in a terrible storm."

"How unfortunate!" said Ernie. "At least those sisters might learn how to be a bit more humble."

"Yes, but what about Belle, though?" asked Hannah. "The poor girl was sweet, and she lost everything as well."

"That's sort of a lesson, I suppose," said Justin. "Bad things sometimes to completely innocent people as well."

"Yes, people are just unlucky sometimes," said Terry. "You were wrong, though, Ernie: the sisters definitely didn't learn to be more humble. If anything, they just became more annoying. See, they moaned and whined all day about their terrible, terrible fate. The poor father felt as if it was somehow his fault, because they kept blaming him."

"Bleeding berks," muttered Wayne.

Everyone stared at him.

"You know, Wayne," started Justin, "it's nice that you're trying to sound English, but you _are _American. You don't have to try to find British insults."

"What on earth is a 'berk' anyway?" asked Susan. "I never really realised where that came from."

"Oh, I know," said Wayne with a smirk on his face. "You see, it's Cockney rhyming slang. It's a shortened form of 'Berkeley Hunt', which was, of course, rhyming slang for cu—"

"All right, we've got it, Wayne!" said Hannah. "There _are_ first-years here, after all."

Wayne simply shrugged, leaning back into his chair.

"Anyway," continued Terry, "only Belle was completely content. She knew that some things couldn't be predicted and that it wasn't their father's fault."

"Smart girl," said Megan.

"Yes, I suppose she was," replied Terry. "After some time of them living in poverty, the father got notice of a ship that might've been his. It was saved and waiting for him on the coast."

"Well, that's lucky," said John Stebbins.

"Just you wait, I'm sure it'll turn out that it wasn't actually his ship," said second-year Owen Cauldwell. "Things would be way too easy any other way."

"Before the father left, he asked his daughters what they wanted him to bring them. The two older daughters said they wanted expensive clothing and jewellery, but Belle only wanted a single red rose, because they didn't grow where they lived."

"I don't know if that's sad or stupid," said Wayne.

The others nodded in agreement.

"You were absolutely right, Owen," said Terry. "The ship wasn't his, and the family was poor once again. On the way home from the coast, though, there was a large storm. The rain came down in torrents and the wind pushed the father's horse from side to side. After some time, he came upon a large castle in the forest. He decided to seek shelter inside."

"Uh-oh," said Sally-Anne Perks. "This won't end well."

Terry nodded, taking a sip of his hot cocoa.

"The door to the castle opened by itself, revealing a large hallway. As the father walked down the hallway, torches on the sides started lighting up by themselves."

"Wow. How scary. I am really terrified," Zacharias Smith deadpanned.

"Shut up, Zach," said Megan, who happened to be his girlfriend. "Trust me, if you were alone in a castle like that, you _would _be terrified."

"Well, think about it, guys," said Hannah as she got up to pour herself another cup of cocoa. "We sort of spend all our time in a large, dark castle that has gates that open by themselves and torches lighting randomly. Imagine being alone in Hogwarts at night."

She shuddered at the thought.

"Plus, you have to remember that the father was a Muggle," said Terry. "These things would always be very odd and scary for him, alone or not."

"I suppose you're right," grumbled Zacharias.

"Anyway, the father tried looking for the owner, but he couldn't find them," said Terry. "He wandered into a large dining room, where a table was filled with all sorts of food. As he couldn't find the owner, the father shrugged and sat down to eat. After he was done, he walked out and stumbled upon a bedroom with the largest and most-comfortable bed he had ever seen. As he still didn't find the owner, he lay down in bed and fell asleep immediately."

"God, hasn't he ever read 'Goldilocks'?" Wayne asked. "Honestly, the blokes in these stories are always so naive and gullible."

"Yes, I agree," said Terry. "When the father woke up, the house was still empty. He decided not to try his luck again and to leave."

"Smart fellow," said Ernie.

"Well, when he left the house, he came upon a garden filled with beautiful red roses."

"Oh god, that won't end well," said Susan.

"You're right," said Terry. "You see, the father remembered Belle's request. He picked a single lovely rose. Suddenly, he was knocked to the ground by a large, hairy beast. The Beast happened to be wearing a coat, though."

"Er, what?" asked Owen. "Why was the beast dressed?"

"Well, as soon as the father saw him, the Beast spoke. He said, 'I've let you sleep in my castle, I've let you eat my food and sleep in my bed and this is how you repay me?'"

"Er, the beast owned the castle?" asked Ernie. "What on earth...?"

"Maybe it was an odd animagus?" added Hannah. "Although, he wouldn't be able to talk in animal form."

"Maybe it was just a very hairy man," said Sally-Anne. "My uncle Richard once climbed a tree in my yard and I swear he looked like a gorilla."

"No, no," said Terry, "this was an actual beast. See, everything there was his and he was very angry at the father for taking the rose."

"It's just one rose," said Wayne. "God!"

"Yes, but the Beast was very protective of his possessions. He told the father that the penalty for taking his roses was death."

"All right, that really was harsh," said Justin. "That Beast guy is a right pillock."

"I know!" Hannah said. "Honestly, it's just one flower."

"The father obviously agreed with you lot," said Terry. "He begged the Beast to let him go, saying that the rose was a gift for his daughter. The Beast was somewhat touched by this sentiment, so he told the father he could go, but that he had to return in two days."

"Well, that's hardly better," said Sally-Anne.

"At least he'll have time to say goodbye to his daughters," said Eleanor.

"Exactly," said Terry. "He went home and told his daughters what happened. The older two daughters were unhappy, even more because he hadn't brought them their presents. They said they were really sorry about his fate. Only dear Belle decided to help him, by taking his place at the Beast's home."

"She's going a bit overboard, isn't she?" said Justin. "I mean, I understand she loves him, but she doesn't know what the Beast will do to her!"

"When Belle reached the Beast's castle, she was scared," said Terry, "but she loved her father too much to give up then. She entered the castle, where the Beast was waiting for her. When she introduced herself, the Beast told her that her name suited her."

"Okay, that's disgusting," said Susan.

"Right. Well, she thanked him and told him she had come to take her father's place. The Beast told her that everything he owned was hers. She could go anywhere she wanted, inside and around the castle, but she could never leave."

"Well, I suppose that's decent of him," said Megan. "Not the whole 'you can't leave' part, but at least he's not keeping her locked up like a prisoner."

"Yes, I reckon he wanted her to feel at home," said Terry. "Belle lived at the castle for a few weeks, exploring the castle and the grounds. Of course, she missed her family greatly, but she knew this was something she had to do to protect them. She would have dinner with the Beast every night, but besides him, she saw no one else."

"That's not good," said Ernie. "You can't keep someone isolated for so long, it's not good for their mental health."

"Every night, Belle dreamt of a gorgeous prince," said Terry.

"Ah, that's my territory," said Wayne. "I dream about handsome princes all the time!"

The whole room laughed. Megan rolled her eyes, punching her friend lightly.

"Hey, it's the truth!" added Wayne. "They're usually tall and dark. Really handsome."

"Like Dean Thomas?" asked Hannah with a wink.

"Shut up, Abbott," Wayne said, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "I didn't say that."

"Er, okay," said Terry. "Anyway, every night, the prince would say, 'Please, Belle, help me! Set me free!'"

"Uh, did the beast have him locked up somewhere?" asked Susan.

"That's what Belle thought," said Terry. "She kept trying to find him, but after some time, it was obvious that the only living things in the castle were the Beast and her. One evening, during dinner, the Beast asked her to marry him."

"Um, that's really, really disgusting," said Hannah.

"I thought you couldn't marry animals," said Ernie. "That's very disturbing."

"Well, Belle didn't find it disturbing, but she had to say no, as she wasn't in love with the Beast," said Terry. "Although, as time went by, she realised that she liked the Beast more and more every day. When they talked in the evenings, she found him very intelligent and kind."

"Oh, yeah, very kind," said Justin. "Especially while he's keeping her hostage."

"I suppose it's a bit like Stockholm syndrome," said Terry. "Every night since, the Beast would ask her to marry him. One evening, he told her that, even though he was a monster, he loved her very much. Belle said, 'Among mankind, there are many that deserve that name more than you.'"

"That's true," said Wayne, glaring at the floor.

"Very true," replied Terry. "Anyway, one night, Belle decided that she really wanted to see her family again. She asked the Beast if she could. He said yes, but told her that he would die if she didn't return in a month."

"Well, that's a bit dramatic," said Megan. "Surely he wouldn't die."

"He would, and don't call me Shirley," said Justin.

Everyone stared at him, confused.

"What, Muggle jokes? Leslie Nilsen? No one?" Justin asked, frowning at them. "Fine, but you don't know what you're missing."

"The Beast gave Belle a mirror. He told her that all she had to do was look in the mirror if she missed him, and that she could see him."

"So, sort of like a Two-way mirror?" asked Owen. "I think my cousin had one of those."

"Sort of like one, yes," said Terry. "So, Belle said goodbye to him and left. He had also given her presents to take to her family, clothes, jewellery and such. When she returned home, her sisters were happy to see her, but only because she was carrying expensive presents. Her father, on the other hand, was very glad she was home. He asked her how she felt, what living with the Beast was like... Belle just felt so happy being at home again."

"Let me guess, she forgot about the Beast?" asked Hannah.

"Kind of," said Terry. "She was so happy seeing her family again, that she sort of stopped thinking about the Beast. Every day, she'd remember him at a point, but she'd decide she had another day to stay. Then another day. Then another day. Finally, after a month, she realised that she hadn't contacted the Beast since she arrived at her house."

"A bit ungrateful, that one," said Justin. "I mean, he _did _allow her to see her family."

"Well, he was also keeping her against her will," remarked Hannah.

"Hannah's right," said Megan. "It's completely understandable that she didn't really think about him."

"So, she took the mirror," continued Terry, "and what she saw shocked her: the Beast was lying on the ground, breathing heavily."

"He's playing her!" said Wayne. "There's no way he'd really die."

"Well, you know what?" remarked Justin. "There's this thing in the Muggle world, the 'Broken Heart syndrome'. I mean, it's medical, obviously, but it can happen, you can die from a broken heart."

Everyone stared at him.

"Shut up, Justin," Megan said, ruffling his curly hair as he huffed.

"All right," said Terry, feeling out of place. "So, Belle hurried to the Beast's castle. When she came to it, the Beast was lying in his bed of roses, barely alive. He looked at her and said, 'You forgot your promise, and I was so afflicted for having lost you, that I resolved to starve myself, but since I have the happiness of seeing you once more, I die satisfied.'"

"Wait, he purposefully starved himself?" asked Hannah. "That's emotional blackmail, that is!"

"Well, all right, I think we agree that the Beast was a bit of a wanker," said Terry, "but anyway, Belle sat next to him, tears rolling down her face. She told him she loved him too much to be the cause of his death and that she would marry him. As soon as she said that, she heard loud music and they were surrounded by white light. Suddenly, the Beast disappeared and was replaced by the prince she dreamt about before."

There was silence in the room.

"Why didn't I see that coming?" asked Wayne. "Of course, they have to have the happy ending, don't they?"

"Right, so it's not actually bestiality because the Beast was secretly a human," said Megan, eliciting a few laughs. "So, why was the prince a beast?"

"Er, he told Belle that he was so selfish and crude as a man that an evil witch made him a beast. The spell would only be broken by a young, kind-hearted girl that chose to marry him."

"Well, he obviously hasn't changed much since then, has he?" said Justin.

"Also, it's obvious he never really loved dear Belle," said Ernie. "It seems he was simply using her for his selfish goals."

"Well, they kind of lived happily ever after," said Terry.

"Right," laughed Wayne. "Once a wanker, always a wanker. Like me!"

Terry threw a cushion on him.


	9. Rumpelstiltskin

During a practice Quidditch match, Stephen Cornfoot was hit by a Bludger. Not only was he hit by it, but it had broken his arm and left him sprawled on the floor, crying in pain. His best friend, Kevin Entwhistle, and Kevin's girlfriend (also, Stephen's good friend) Lisa Turpin had carried him out of the field with the help of the team captain, Roger Davies. They had brought him to the Hospital Wing, which is why he was there the moment Anthony Goldstein was brought in because of a Potions accident and placed into the bed next to his.

"Hey there, Tony," Stephen said, happy he was no longer alone in the room, because, of course, Terry Boot and Michael Corner arrived into the Wing by Anthony's side. "How are you?"

Anthony let out a gurgled sound before raising his arm and letting it fall next to him.

"Er, Madam Pomfrey says he can't answer, but understands what we say," hurried Terry. "We were making a Potion and something went wrong."

"It was my fault," said Michael dejectedly. "I mean, I know you aren't the best at Potions, Terry. I should've supervised you."

"Honestly, Mike, it's obviously my fault," said Terry. "I'm the one who's bad at it, I should've been more careful!"

Suddenly, Anthony produced another strange sound, frowning at his best friends.

"I think Tony's trying to tell you to shut up," said Stephen, smiling at his friends. "I agree with him."

"Right, sorry," said Terry. "How are you feeling, Steve?"

Stephen sighed, trying to move his fingers.

"Not good, but Madam Pomfrey says I'll be just fine after a few hours. The damn Bludger caught me by surprise."

"What happened?" asked Michael.

"Well, I was guarding the posts, minding my own business, when Kevin hit the Bludger in Roger's direction, trying to stop him from scoring. Davies ducked out of the way and the damn ball hit me in the hand."

"Oh," said Michael. "Well, at least you didn't fall from your broom. That would've done more damage. Where are Kevin and Lisa?"

"Kevin went off to Hogsmeade to bring me some sweets," said Stephen with a grin. "I think he feels guilty about what happened. Lisa told me she was going to come over as soon as she finished her Arithmancy homework, which I hope is soon."

Michael set on Stephen's bed, adjusting his covers slightly.

"God, I'm just happy Rita Skeeter doesn't report on Hogwarts Quidditch," he said. "Two years ago, when that Appleby Arrows Seeker got injured, she reported it as a hate crime!"

Stephen laughed loudly.

"I can just see it," he said. "'Stephen Cornfoot, Ravenclaw's Keeper, got injured by a Bludger, not because he was playing Quidditch, but because he's black!"

"That would be a read," said Terry. "I suppose they'd forbid Bludgers around anyone who wasn't white."

Michael grinned.

"I suppose Su's brother, Kai, would be happy. He always complains about Bludgers flying right past his face."

"I'll file a racism complaint next morning," Stephen said, yawning loudly. "Merlin, I think Pomfrey's given me a Sleeping Draught. When Lisa comes, tell her to wake me."

With that, he felt himself drift into sleep.

When he woke up, Stephen realised that there was a heavy weight pressing down on his bed on one side. Looking over, he noticed Lisa was lying next to him, seemingly reading a book under the light of her wand. In the next bed, Anthony was sleeping, while Michael and Terry sat in chairs on the other side of his bad, whispering something.

Stephen moved a bit, realising that he could now move his fingers as well.

"Hey, you're up," Lisa whispered, putting her book down to the nightstand next to his bed. "I thought you'd never wake up. By the way, you snore."

Stephen snorted, getting up in a sitting position with her help.

"I do not snore," he said, raising his arm and stretching. "What time is it?"

"It's almost midnight," Lisa answered. "Madam Pomfrey examined you about half an hour before. She said your hand was fine, but that she'd like to keep you for the night, just to make sure there were no complications."

"Oh," Stephen said, waving at Michael and Terry, who had noticed he was awake. "Did Kevin come?"

"Yeah, he was here a couple of hours ago," replied Lisa. "He'd brought you some Bertie Bott's."

"Mmm, my favourite!" said Stephen, licking his lips.

"Steve," whispered Terry. "I hope you don't mind, but I took a bean that tasted like strawberry. You know I can't resist them."

"It's perfectly fine, Terry," said Stephen. "I prefer the odd-tasting ones either way."

He took a Bertie Bott and made a face.

"See? Dirt," he said, grimacing while he chewed. "Anyway, I know a way you could make it up to me."

Terry looked at him in question.

"Well, you could tell us a story," Stephen said, smiling at his friend. "Something to pass the time, I suppose."

Terry nodded, a smile gracing his face.

"Sure," he said, "but we have to be quiet. I don't want us to wake Tony up."

Along with Michael, he carried their chairs to Stephen's bed, carefully placing them down. Lisa brought her wand closer to the two of them, so they could all see each other clearly.

"Actually, Terry, I'd like to tell the story for once," she said. "I have one that my Dad told me about during the holidays."

"Sure, Lisa," said Terry, seemingly happy that he didn't have to be the storyteller this time. "I'd like to hear it."

"Well, great!" she said, immediately clamping her hand over her mouth as she realised she was a bit too loud. "Sorry."

The four of them got comfortable. Stephen sat up a bit more, while Lisa put her blonde hair into a ponytail and snuggled into him. Michael and Terry sat back in their chairs, looking at her.

She cleared her throat and began.

"Once upon a time, there lived a poor miller and his daughter."

"Oh, he didn't have an evil wife?" asked Michael with a grin. "Too bad Kevin's not here to hear the story where there is no evil step-mother."

"Yeah, Kevin..." Lisa said, seemingly deep in thought. "Anyway, the miller spent most of his free time in a pub."

"Well, god forbid he spends any time with his daughter," said Stephen. "So, what happened to him?"

"Some of the workers in the pub were bragging about their kids," said Lisa, annoyed at the interruptions. "So, the miller was drunk already and he blurted out, 'Well, my daughter can spin straw into gold!'"

Terry and Michael laughed quietly.

"He's a bit of a tosser, right?" asked Michael. "I mean, who brags about something like that? It's impossible."

"Well, of course the father was lying," Lisa said impatiently, "but he was absolutely knackered! Haven't you ever said something stupid while you were drunk?"

Stephen smiled sheepishly, but Terry and Michael shook their heads.

"We don't drink," Terry said. "It's a sort of a pact."

"Smart of you," Lisa said. "Anyway, back to the story. The highly intelligent town citizens believed the miller and word of his talented daughter soon reached the King, who summoned her into his castle."

"What was the girl's name?" asked Terry. "Most characters in Muggle fairy tales have odd names."

"Definitely," Lisa said, smiling mysteriously. "But this girl's name is never mentioned."

"Well, we have to name her something!" exclaimed Stephen, before he was shushed by Terry. He rolled his eyes, whispering, "Sorry. Anyway, maybe she could be Strawerella. Goldiestraw? Goldspinner?"

"Shut up, Steve," Lisa said, smiling at him. "We'll think of something. So, the King told her that he'd heard of her and that she had to spin gold for him or that she would die."

Everybody stared at her.

"All right, the award for the biggest wanker in this story goes to the King," said Stephen. "He didn't even _ask _her if the bloody rumours were true!"

"I know, the King _was _a right arse," said Lisa. "But, our hero, poor Goldiestraw—"

"Hah, I knew you liked it!" Stephen exclaimed, before being shushed again. "Sorry."

"Well, it serves the purpose," said Lisa. "Anyway, she was locked in a room filled with hay. There was just a small window which allowed light to come in. The King told her that she had to spin all that straw into gold by the morning. If she failed, he'd have her executed. She sat down on the ground and started crying."

"God, why do the heroines of these stories always sit down and cry?" asked Michael. "Get up, woman, and do something productive! Look for some sort of a way out!"

"I agree with you, Mike," said Terry, "but please be quiet. Tony will wake up."

Michael threw a quick glance at his sleeping friend, before turning back to Terry.

"He's sleeping like a baby," he said fondly. "So, what happened when the girl started crying?"

"Well, a tiny man appeared out of nowhere," said Lisa, "as if he had just Apparated. He said 'I have heard your problem, and I can fix it.'"

"Er, he knew the way out of the locked room?" asked Stephen.

"He could kill the King?" suggested Michael.

"He could explain the truth to the King?" asked Terry, frowning at Michael.

"No, he could spin straw into gold," replied Lisa.

The three boys laughed loudly, but stopped when they saw Anthony moving. When they deduced he was still asleep, they grinned at Lisa.

"Lisa, turning straw into gold might not be impossible, but it's highly improbable," said Terry. "You'd have to be a very, very talented alchemist to do that."

"Well, this little guy could do it," Lisa said defensively. "Just go with it! Also, stop interrupting or I'll strangle all three of you!"

"Oh, Lisa, you're too sweet to do that!" Stephen said. "You wouldn't strangle me! You'd have no one to have tickle wars with!"

"Just try me, Cornfoot," she said, glaring at him. "I'm a descendant of Dick Turpin, I know how these things work. Anyway, the little man asked the girl what she would give to him in return. She gave him her necklace."

"Why did a poor miller's daughter have a necklace?" asked Michael. "Jewellery was expensive back then."

"I reckon it was just an inexpensive thing, plastic or something," said Lisa. "Anyway, the little man spun the straw into gold and disappeared. The next morning, the King was ecstatic to find so much gold in the room."

"But let me guess, it wasn't enough?" Stephen asked bitterly.

"You're absolutely right," Lisa said with a smile. "The King ordered Strawerella to spin more straw into gold, or she'd die."

"Again?" asked Michael. "God, that bloke's greedy!"

"Very," replied Lisa. "Anyway, the girl was locked in the room. She fell to the floor and started crying once again."

"But the little man appeared again?" asked Terry.

"Yes, he did," said Lisa. "He once again asked her what she would give to him if he helped her. She gave him her last possession, a golden ring. Once again, he spun all of the straw into gold."

"Why does he need her things?" asked Michael. "I mean, you'd think someone who could spin straw into gold would be very rich."

"I suppose it's only symbolic," said Lisa. "The little guy wasn't exactly nice. This was probably his way of asserting his dominance over the girl. See, the next morning, the arsehole King told her that, for one more night, she had to spin straw. If she managed to get gold again, he'd marry her."

"I think I'd rather die than be married to that arse," said Stephen with a grin.

"Well, unlike you, dear Goldspinner was really afraid of death," said Lisa. "As soon as the door closed, she once again fell to the floor and started crying."

"All right, she's got to be faking it by now!" Michael exclaimed. "She knows that's the formula to make the dwarf appear, so she pretends to cry!"

"Maybe you're right, Mike," said Lisa, "but maybe she's just over-emotional, as most girls in fairytales are. Anyway, the little man did appear again. He asked her what she'll give to him if he helped her, but she said that she ha

++d nothing of value left. He told her that she had something he wanted very much."

"Er, this isn't going where I think it's going, right?" Terry asked with a grimace.

"Thankfully, no. He asked her to promise him her firstborn."

There was complete silence in the room.

"...The fuck?" Stephen asked. "He asked her to give him her kid? I really hope she said no."

"Well..." Lisa hesitated. "Not exactly. You see, she thought about no one being able to predict the future. You know, what if she dies before having kids or summat. So, yes, she promised him her firstborn."

"Idiot!" said Michael. "What the hell is wrong with her?"

"What a terrible mother she'll be," said Terry. "I'll have to give a copy of this story to Wayne."

"Hey, but what about dwarf-guy?" asked Stephen. "Why would he want her kid?"

"Well, maybe he can't have kids of his own, so he takes hers?" suggested Michael. "He's still a tosser, though."

"The characters of this story are all a bunch of gits," said Stephen. "The father, the King, Strawerella, the little guy..."

"I know," said Lisa. "The next morning, the girl showed the King all the gold she supposedly spun, so he married her. For years, they lived in peace in harmony..."

"When he finally stopped trying to kill her, I hope," muttered Stephen.

"... and after a few years, she gave birth to a son. Soon after, the little man appeared again."

"Uh-oh," said Michael.

"Exactly," replied Lisa. "The Queen had sort of forgotten about her promise, but..."

"She _forgot_ that she promised someone her kid?" Stephen exclaimed, no longer caring about waking Anthony up. "How do you forget something like that? Was she completely daft? Did she have that Muggle thing, Alzenheimer's disease?"

"Er, that's Alzheimer's, Steve," corrected Terry. "Also, please be a little quieter."

"I agree, the Queen was a bit of a moron," said Lisa. "Anyway, the little man told her that she had to keep her promise."

"Did she start crying?" Michael asked bitterly.

"Well, she did start begging," answered Lisa. "The dwarf didn't want to negotiate, but finally he gave her an ultimatum: if she guessed his name, she'd get to keep her kid."

"Is he insane?" asked Stephen. "Okay, he obviously is, but still, there's more than a billion possibilities!"

"Exactly, it was completely impossible," said Lisa. "That's kind of the point. Anyway, the Queen started immediately, 'Is your name _? Is your name _? Is your name _?' Each time, the little man would grin and shake his head. It went on like that for a few days and the little man finally said that she had only one day to guess, and if she didn't, he'd take her son."

"God, he's a sadistic little bastard, isn't he?" asked Michael.

"Obviously," said Lisa. "That night, one of the Queen's servants was going through the woods and he saw the little man dancing around the fire. He was singing,

'_Today I brew,  
Tomorrow I bake,  
For _,  
The Queen's son I take!_

That my name is Rumpelstiltskin!'"

"That's his name?" exclaimed Anthony from his bed.

Everyone looked at him.

"Er, I've been awake for a while," he said, scratching his neck and adjusting his glasses.

Smiling at her friend, Lisa continued, "Yep, his name was Rumpelstiltskin. That's also the name of the story."

"No wonder he asked the Queen to guess his name," said Stephen. "That's absolutely impossible! That's not even a name!"

"And what the hell does 'tomorrow I bake' mean?" asked Michael. "Er, it doesn't mean what I think it does, right?"

"Well, some people do think that it meant he was going to eat the kid," Lisa mumbled.

"Okay, that's just disgusting," said Stephen. "This guy really is creepy."

"Definitely. Anyway, the servant immediately ran to the Queen and told her what he heard Rumpelstiltskin singing. The Queen was ecstatic about the news and tomorrow, when he came to her, she said, 'Is your name _? Is it _? Well, I'm at loss then, unless your name is Rumpelstiltskin!' Rumpelstiltskin screamed, grabbed his leg and pulled so hard he opened some sort of a portal to Hell. He managed to get stuck in it, so the Queen and her son lived happily ever after."

"Yeah, with a hole leading to Hell in their bedroom," said Anthony, snorting with laughter. "And a little dwarf stuck in it, yelling and cursing."

"That was ... odd," said Michael.

"Well, look on the bright side," said Lisa. "At least Terry isn't the only weirdo around now."

Terry threw a pillow at her.


End file.
